


The Heart of the Hunger Games

by SewageRat32



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Bisexual Logic | Logan Sanders, Blood and Gore, Dark Roman, Eventual Unsympathetic Patton, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurts So Good, Its the hunger games what did you expect, Logan x Oc, M/M, Murder, Original Character(s), Peril, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Starvation, Swearing, Thomas is the Gamemaker, Weapons, enjoy every bit of fluff you get, the therapist needs therapy, what could go wrong?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27636740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SewageRat32/pseuds/SewageRat32
Summary: After being thrown into the Hunger Games, Patton has to decide if he has it in him to kill. One of the many problems with this is Virgil, a boy younger than Patton from the Textiles district. Will Patton kill to save his family, or throw everything away for love?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	1. Patton of District 7

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! This is my first fic on here, and the first written work I have ever published, so please don't be too mean. I accept any constructive criticism you got. Also, please read the tags, and tell me if I need to add any more. Make sure you know what your getting into. This is the Hunger Games after all. (hehe) Anyway, enjoy. And may the odds be ever in your favor...

Patton lodged his axe into his final tree of the day, kicked it, and watched it fall to the ground. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he stripped the tree of its branches, picked up the trunk with ease, and carried it to the growing pile of logs. Nodding to a peacekeeper, he brought the trunk to the other workers so they could start splitting it into smaller pieces. He gave them a polite nod and headed over to collect his payment for the week. Taking his place in line, he let his mind wander. Tomorrow would be the Reaping. How many times would he have his name in this year? He turned 16 a few months prior, so 5 times. Then another 15 times for tesserae. That makes 20.

Not many children sign up for tesserae in District 7, but those that do often have larger families. Patton only had to get extra in order to keep his parents alive. After his father became immobilized from the waist down in an accident, Patton started working in the forest at age 10. At first, he just measured and chopped the logs, but now he worked with the other adults to trim branches and cut trees down. He had an impressive build for being only 16, and he was strong like the rest of his colleagues. That was where the similarities stopped, though. While everyone else had hair ranging from black to light brown and slightly tan skin, Patton had curly blonde hair and ivory skin. His face was dotted with freckles, and round glasses sat in front of his eyes. He looked like his mother. Patton didn’t mind standing out a little, though.

Patton was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice the line had moved up until someone brought a foot down on his boot. Hard. “Move up! Some of us would like to go home!” 

“Sorry,” Patton muttered softly, moving his aching toes a little. He collected his pay. When he turned around, he immediately recognized the person that brought him out of his thoughts. Nora Leon: one of the younger ones that worked in the forest, only 13 years old. Patton had seen her around before. She was a fast climber and a hard worker. He’d seen her strip a tree of its branches in 30 seconds flat. She fit in around here, with her long dark hair and tan skin. Even though he didn’t know her that well, she was like the little sister Patton never had. She was annoying and bossy most of the time, but she could be kind and thoughtful when she wanted to be. 

Patton watched her skip up to the counter, collect her pay, and then proceed to stick her tongue at Patton and run away. Patton couldn’t help but smile. He followed her out of the forest soon after. Right before he left, he grabbed his father’s throwing knives from a bush and ran home. Technically owning weapons other than an axe was prohibited, but Patton hadn’t been caught with it yet. As soon as he got home, he went through the backdoor and took off running. No one usually went through this part of the woods, so Patton used it to practice his knife throwing. He set up paper targets to practice on in his free time a while back. It was mainly a way to pass the time, and sometimes a way to get extra food. Without stopping his pace, he threw a knife at the target. Bullseye. He collected his knife from the target and laid down in the grass. 

“You’re not supposed to be here, you know.” Startled, Patton turned his head to see Nora hanging upside down from a branch above him, smirking.

“Neither are you. How’d you find me, anyway?” he shot back.

“You left your axe. Decided to follow you.”

“... Uh-huh. But you left before me,” Patton pointed out.

“Do you want it back?” She swung the axe above his head before jumping down and handing it to him. He took it and patted the patch of grass next to him. She sat down next to him and they watched the birds fly above them.

“How many times is your name in? For the Reaping?” he asked her. 

“16.”

“That’s a lot for someone your age.”

“Well, I have 6 other mouths to feed. My older brother’s disabled and my father can’t care for all 5 of us. How about you?”

“20.” They sat in silence for a while, Nora finally breaking the silence by humming to the mockingjays. They stayed until the sun set and they both had to return home. “Happy hunger games,” Nora called out as she started running. 

“And may the odds be ever in your favor,” Patton called back, then stood up. Before Nora ducked out of sight, she turned around, whipped a slingshot out of her pocket, and flung a pebble on his upper arm. “Whoops. Was aiming for your eye.” She disappeared before Patton could say anything.

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On the day of the Reaping, it was pouring. Patton left the throwing knives inside the house so they wouldn’t rust. District 7 usually got a lot of rain, but not this heavy, and definitely not this time of year. It was as if the sky was crying for the soon-to-be doomed children. Nevertheless, everyone was still required to dress their best and meet near the town hall. Patton put on his father’s old blue flannel. It was worn, but still nice enough for the reaping. Under it he wore a simple brown shirt and dark blue jeans. He slipped on his boots and went to his parents’ room to help his father get ready. His mother was weaving her hair into a simple braid, and his father was still lying in bed. Patton helped him into his chair and dressed him into a nice shirt and jeans. Because his father was immobile, it wasn’t required that he should come to the Reaping ceremony, but he insisted that he would come, just in case the unthinkable happened.

As the family walked through the rain, Patton enjoyed the cooler weather and the comfort that came from a full night of rest. Usually he would be in the forest by now, hours into hard labor. He went to stand with the other 16 year old boys, glancing over at his parents ever so often. Surely it won’t be him. There were so many slips. The odds were in his favor. He looked over at Nora, trying to count how many slips she would have in by the time she was his age. _It isn’t fair that such a young girl needs to worry about her family._ But, then again, none of this was fair. Forcing children into a deadly arena. How could people be so immoral? 

After what seemed like hours of waiting, the District 7 representative Heather Bishops strutted onto the stage, followed by the Mayor and Emile Picani, a previous victor and the mentor for District 7 this year. He won the 24th Hunger Games after he watched a career kill his 2 allies, and went completely insane, killing everyone else with a dagger within a day. He’s been on medication, but had never completely healed from the experience. Heather walked up to the microphone, tossed a strand of hair (from her extravagant wig) over her shoulder and started the speech that was recited every year, all about the rebellion and the origin of the Hunger Games. He saw his father shiver out of the corner of his eye.

“Now, it's time to choose the tributes for this year!” She squealed. She walked quickly over to the girls’ bowl (how she was able to stay on her two feet with those heels, Patton had no idea) and carefully picked up a slip of paper. The name she stated and the way she spoke it would be embedded in Patton's brain forever. She cleared her throat. 

“Nora Leon?” 

Patton froze and looked over at Nora, everyone stepping away from her. She slowly walked up to the stage, her face frozen with fear. _NO! Not her, anyone but her._ Heather, oblivious as to why the poor girl would be shaking, happily stated, “Come along, we haven’t got all day. Don’t be shy!” Her 4 younger siblings started crying when they saw Nora on stage. Her older brother just looked away. Her father’s hands were clenched so tightly they were turning blue. As for Patton? He bit his tongue to stop himself from screaming, as that would only result in cruel punishment from the peacekeepers. 

“How exciting! Okay, now for the boys.” She piped. She ran over to the boys’ bowl and giggled with excitement. She reached her hand in, her bracelets clinking together as she did so. She smiled at the rows of boys, all of them silent. Heather picked up a slip on the side and smoothed out the creases. 

“Patton Ortega?”

Patton almost passed out at the shock of hearing his name, but he did his best not to look scared. He had to be strong for his parents. At least while the cameras were still on. He walked onto the stage, not making eye contact with Nora. Was it only yesterday they were having a conversation? And now he had to fight her? Kill her? He couldn’t think about that right now. He looked right at Heather and scowled for a split second. 

“How wonderful! Our tributes for District 7 everyone!” Patton flinched as she took both his and Nora’s hands and raised them in the air. Patton looked forward, finding his parents in the crowd. His mother had tears in her eyes, smiling sadly. His father was sitting beside his mother, squeezing her hand. He couldn’t look at them anymore. He couldn’t start crying now. Nobody applauded, or said anything. No one ever did when a 12 or 13 year old was chosen. No one had it in them.

Heather cleared her throat to break the silence. “Okay, now the Mayor will read the Treaty of Treason.” Patton didn’t listen to a word. He kept thinking about how he was going to survive. How could he kill someone, a child? It was wrong. But he had to, didn’t he? If he didn’t then his parents wouldn’t survive. His father was unable to work, and his mother was too old for woodworking-- but if Nora didn’t win, her family would probably starve. Nora’s 5 siblings would be too much for her father alone. Of course, if Patton won he would make sure they didn’t. _If being the key word here,_ he thought solemnly.

The Mayor finished reading off the Treaty and asked Patton and Nora to shake hands. He still couldn’t look at her in the eye, but did as he was told. Then, they were both marched off the stage and put in separate rooms in the Justice Building. He would get one hour to say his goodbyes to friends and family, and then he would go to the Capitol. Patton sat down on a velvet armchair. The first person to enter was his mother, helping my father into the room. He ran up and hugged her, doing his best to control his tears. 

“Mom, it's okay. I’m going to come back. If I don’t-.” He couldn’t finish the sentence before she started sobbing. All Patton could do was say encouraging words and tell her it would be okay. When her crying slowed, Patton turned to his father. Patton let a single tear shed, but wiped it away quickly. “I’ll come back. For you and mom.” After a few minutes, a peacekeeper came to collect his parents. 

The next person to come in surprised him. It was Nora’s older brother, sporting a crutch and struggling on his weak leg. He looked at Patton, speaking slowly. “Take care of my sister in there, please? At least don’t kill her?” He pleaded. Patton simply nodded. “I’ll do what I can.” Patton wanted to apologize, but didn’t know how. Nora’s brother nodded and walked out. No one else came in after that. Patton took off his father’s flannel and ripped off a piece of it. No doubt they wouldn’t let him bring clothing, but having a piece of it as a token? They would most likely let him.

A Peacekeeper came to collect Patton and board him on the train. When he entered the food cart, Nora was already there, staring out the window. Patton looked at all the food laid out on a table. Of course, he had no appetite at the moment, but forced himself to eat a roll. He hadn’t eaten anything today. They sat in silence, but they both knew it couldn’t last. Right when Patton was going to say something, Heather Bishops and Emile Picani walked in the cart. Emile smiled at the two.

“Do you how do?”


	2. The Capitol Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Tags: PTSD, Swearing, Starvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, A couple of things
> 
> 1\. Honestly I didn't think anyone would read this but like a few people did so I guess I'll keep writing lol  
> 2\. Massive credit to WolfieGamer57 for being my editor for this. She also designed the costumes for the float thing (Oh yeah, we aint missing that part) She's literally the best <3  
> 3\. I figured out how to format. ik, im a boomer lol but now I can actually italicize and bold stuff. yay for me  
> 4\. I have decided to publish a chapter once a week. sometimes sooner or later, depending what I got going on cuz I have a life. Shocking, I know.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, its kinda slow but don't worry. It'll start picking up soon <3

Roman stood silently as he watched the slip of paper being pulled out of the boys’ Reaping bowl. He was still debating whether he should volunteer and claim all the glory for this Hunger Games, but he wasn’t certain until the name was read.

“Remus King.” The District 2 representative stated the name loud and clear. Roman watched as his 12 year old brother started having a laughing fit and walked toward the stage. Everyone knew something was wrong with that boy, and he wouldn’t last a second in the arena without having a mental breakdown. As soon as Remus stepped onto the stage (for prolonged dramatic effect), Roman walked forward. 

“I volunteer as tribute.” Remus looked slightly less tense. He knew the other tributes stood no chance against his brother. Roman has thought about volunteering for years now, but knew to wait until he was 17, the oldest you could be in the Games. Since he was 12, he spent his time training for this moment. He was handy with a sword and just as good with a mace. He mastered many survival skills, studied past hunger games, and even talked with some previous victors from his home district and learned their strategies as well. While the others his age learned masonry or trained to become Peacekeepers, Roman perfected his combat and survival skills until he was ready to compete. 

He walked confidently onto the stage, not even acknowledging the female tribute. She wouldn’t matter to him, whoever she was, because he was going to kill her. He couldn't get attached to anyone unless it was critical to his strategy for winning. Nevertheless, after the applause ended (everyone always congratulated volunteers in District 2), he shook hands with the girl and smiled, making himself favorable to the audience. He looked to his family, who looked proud to see their son on that stage. After all, weren’t they partially at fault pressuring him to volunteer? Of course, Roman would have never volunteered unless he wanted to, but they helped him work hard for this moment. They had faith that he would come back. 

Remus wanted to see his older brother first, to wish him luck and say his goodbyes just in case he didn’t come back. _Very unlikely,_ he thought confidently. When he walked in, Roman gave him a smug look. “Thought you could steal all the glory from me like that?” 

“Never.” Remus smiled back. _None of the other tributes stand a chance._

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Patton stared blankly at his mentor. Emile’s eyes shifted and moved from side to side nervously every so often. It was clear he was paranoid, and frankly Patton was terrified of him. _Could I become like him if I win?_ Probably. A lot of victors from lower districts had gotten PTSD from the arena. Patton looked to Nora. She looked just as uncomfortable as Patton and Heather did.

“Okay…. Well, it will be about a day’s journey to the capitol, so make yourselves comfortable!” Heather announced, grabbing a strawberry-filled tart of some sort. Then, she walked out of the car, leaving Patton with Nora and Emile, who took a notebook out and was writing something down, glancing up every few seconds. Patton cleared his throat.

“So… you’ve played in the games before, did you, I mean, how did you win?” Emile stopped writing.  
Go up  
“O-oh. Well I-I prefer n-not to talk a-about that. Umm…” He was lost in thought for a few seconds and then he began to write again. Nora was not having it.

“But you’re supposed to be helping us win! How do you expect to help us do that without explaining how you did it?” Nora exclaimed, frustrated. 

“Trust m-me when I s-say you d-on’t want to do w-what I did. B-but if you really w-want to know you c-can watch the r-recording.” And with that, Emile practically ran out of the cart and made a beeline for what most likely was the bathroom. Patton already knew how Emile won, but he could understand why Nora didn’t. Patton was 8 years old on the year the 24th Hunger Games were hosted, but Nora would have been 5, probably too young to remember it.

“Well he’s going to be a lot of help,” Nora grumbled sarcastically. “With him as our mentor we'll probably die during the bloodbath. We don’t even know where to find this ‘recording’.” Patton couldn’t disagree with that comment, but he was still hopeful that Emile would give them some suggestions.

“Give him time. I’m sure he’ll come around.” Nora gave Patton a half smile and went to the desert table. It was filled with more delicacies than Patton could have imagined. Donuts, cupcakes, cookies, tarts, and many more sweets. A chocolate fountain was in the center, surrounded by many different fruits. Patton picked up a chocolate chip cookie, somewhat regaining his appetite. He could only remember one time he’d had a cookie, which he got for his 9th birthday. It was hard and a little dry, but still one of the best things he had tasted. The cookie he bit into was soft and somehow still warm. 

“These pigs are stuffing their faces while we barely get by in the winter,” Nora complained. 

“It's not that bad…” Even Patton knew that wasn’t believable. Nora rolled her eyes and went back to staring out the window, even though everything was moving by so quickly you couldn’t see a thing. Patton decided to pass the time by taking a nap on the velvet couch. Of course, Patton couldn’t fall asleep. He could only imagine what the arena would look like. What his opponents will be skilled with. Would he find allies or go solo? He knew he could last a while if he had an axe, but there might not be one, or it will be stolen before he could get to it. He knew quite a few plants, having grown up in a forest, but maybe this year there wouldn’t be any plants, or none that he would be familiar with.

Before Patton knew it, dinner rolled around. Patton walked with Nora to the extravagant dining car. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, and a massive table with numerous dishes stood in the center. Heather and Emile were already seated, the latter writing nervously in his notebook. It was quiet for a moment, only ruined by the sound of a pen scratching into paper. Nora had enough. She snatched the pen out of his hand and tossed it into the corner.

“Unless you are writing different ways to murder the other tributes, theres no reason you should be scribbling in that stupid fucking notebook.” Silence. Emile was speechless, Heather couldn’t think of anything cheerful to say, and Patton was holding in an inappropriately-timed laugh. Emile sighed.

“Y-you’re right. Would you l-like to watch the recap of the r-reapings for the other d-districts? See what y-you are up against?” 

“Finally, something productive to do that actually helps us.” Nora was the first to stand up and race to the carpeted area in front of a flatscreen TV.

“Ah, yes, well, you can watch the District 8 reaping live, if you’d like. Then district 9 is immediately following. You can watch in order to 12 and then watch the pre-recorded 1-7.” Heather stood up and went to sit on a small armchair in the corner. Patton picked up the remote, realized he had no idea how to operate a Capitol television, and handed it to Heather.

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Virgil stood anxiously with the other 14 year olds in his district. His younger sister, Charlie, was standing alone in the crowd of people that are too young or old for the games, watching their family members and hoping it won’t be one of them. Of course, Virgil already knew he would be put in. He always had bad luck when it came to these things. Not to mention his name was in more times than was even legal for someone his age. He found a way to get more tesserae to feed his sister and himself, so his name was probably in 27 times by now. He was only nervous about who the female tribute would be, who he would have to kill so he could win and take care of his sister. Of course, there was a chance he wouldn’t get chosen. There were a lot of names in this time around, so maybe-

“Raven Deering.”

_Okay, it will be fine. I don’t know her that well so if I am chosen I hopefully won’t get too attached._ Virgil watched the girl walk onto the stage. She was probably around 16. He didn’t pay too much attention to her because the District 8 representative was already choosing the male tribute. _Little too eager to see children murdered, aren’t we?_

“Liam Finch.”

Virgil visibly relaxed. That was, until a peacekeeper walked onto the stage and whispered into the mayor’s ear. The Mayor’s eyebrows raised and his attention turned straight to Virgil’s.

“We have a change of plans for this afternoon. Our male tribute for district 8 will be none other than our Virgil Amund. Mr. Amund?” Virgil, shocked, made his way to the stage, tears pricking his eyes. 

“Virgil will participate in the 32 annual hunger games as punishment for stealing tesserae.”

“I didn’t steal it!” Silence.

“You cheated your name into the bowl more times than the law allows. You took more tesserae than you needed, which limits the amount that other people can have. Should you come back, you will be pardoned.”

“Please, sir, I have a little sister. We’re orphans. We had no food, I had to do something.”

“Detain him.” The peacekeepers standing on the platform dragged him off. He caught one last glimpse of Charlie before he blacked out from hyperventilating. The next time he woke up, he was on a train.

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Patton was speechless. He could hear Nora slap her hand over her mouth.

“Well, I mean. He got what he deserved for stealing tesserae. Serves him right,” Heather said without a second thought.

“Fuck you! He’s a fucking orphan that had to take care of his younger sister! Stop being a bitch and realize these are starving children!” Nora snapped and stormed off.

“I-I’ll go talk to her.” Emile said, clearly uncomfortable. Patton knew where she was coming from. She had to take care of her family too. She knew what it was like to starve. He just controlled his anger a bit (okay, a lot) better than she did. 

“I mean, he did have good reason to steal it. He did what he had to. It doesn’t make it right, but it’s justifiable,” Patton offered. Heather just shook her head and walked away. It was getting late, but Patton wanted to see the other tributes. He pushed the power button on the remote and saw that District 9 had already chosen their two tributes. A bunch of propaganda followed the program. Patton watched through 10 with no one really standing out to him. District 11 was a little more interesting. The two tributes were siblings, with the female one being younger only by a year. It was rare to have siblings in the reaping at the same time, but it had happened before. In the 11th hunger games, the tributes from district 5 were twins. Both ended up dying.

The male tribute’s name was Remy Nidra. That was all he learned before Nora and Emile came back in the room.

“We’ll b-be at the C-capitol in a-about 30 minutes. I suggest you b-both should make yourselves m-more presentable. Appearances are e-everything here.” Patton and Nora agreed and walked in separate directions to their private bathroom and dressing area. It took awhile for Patton to learn how the shower operated. Too many buttons and switches with no labels. _Do the people in the Capitol memorise all of these?_

Once he finished, he grabbed a towel and went to his dressing area, where clothes were already set out for him. Patton unzipped the clothing bag, greeted by khaki overalls with mismatched buttons and small plaid patches, an oversized grey and blue sweater, and what looked like some cutesy hair clip. Sitting on the floor were white dress shoes, a small red rose, and light blue ruffled socks. It was ridiculous, and very Capitol, but appealing to Patton in a strange way. He slipped everything on carefully, never having worn something so delicate and soft, and looked at himself in the mirror. If he ignored his sunburnt cheeks, bags under his eyes, and calloused hands, he almost looked-- well, good.

Patton walked out of his room to see Nora in a red jumpsuit with black leather accents. Her hair was tied up in a red bun net, and she had black leather boots that reached her knees. She looked stunning. He could tell Emile put a lot of thought into their outfits. Emile walked out in a simple white collared shirt with a light brown sweater vest and a pink tie. 

“Are you b-both ready to s-see the Capitol for the f-first time in person?” They headed to the exit of the train and were immediately blown away. The city was massive and bright. Lights were dotted around every building. The most extravagant things, however, were the people. All of them were dressed in bright colors, some even had dyed skin. Some had wigs, others had tails and whiskers, many had tattoos and patterns marked on their skin. They might’ve thought it looked good, but to everyone else (at least from the Districts), they looked freakish.

They were escorted to their hotel by Peacekeepers, barely getting a chance to look around. The hotel room entrance was beautiful, big enough to hold 4 large families in District 7. There was a dining room, a living room, a kitchen, 4 bedrooms, each with their own bathroom and walk-in closet, and a balcony. All the rooms were extravagant and much bigger than they needed to be. Patton, Nora, and Emile sat down in the living room, exhausted from the events of the day. 

“Do we really need this much space? I’m getting claustrophobic, but the other way around,” Nora questioned. 

“Honestly, this isn’t that much space. Smaller than the average Capitol household,” Heather stated. “But it will do.” Everyone was tired, so they all went to sleep. Well, except Patton and possibly Nora. Patton wanted a chance to look around the building. He slipped outside of the hotel room and walked into the hallway. Deciding that an elevator would just make him too stressed, he walked down the stairs and went through everything that happened that day. He must not have been paying attention to his surroundings at all, because he bumped into someone else walking through the hallway. He didn’t recognise him, but knew he was another tribute. He was tall, but still looked young. Probably around 17. He was about to apologize when he was interrupted. 

“Watch where you’re going! Hey, wait, I know you. You’re that boy from district 7. Listen blondie, because I’m only going to say this once: stay out of my way.” And with that, he stomped into the elevator and scowled at Patton. Just before the doors closed, the boy made one final remark.

“It’s Roman, by the way. If you’re lucky, I’ll make your death quick.”

A chill went down Patton's spine as the doors closed, and he knew that Roman would be the biggest challenge the games could throw at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roman and Nora do be a little spicy tho.
> 
> Let me know if you see any mistake <3


	3. Update (Not a new chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *makes a schedule to post once a week*  
> Also Me: *immediately doesn't keep that schedule*

So.... school has been a little much for me lately. I got really behind on my work and semester exams are coming up. I've been very stressed and my mental health has not been in the best place. I know I said I would post once a week, but I think that's going to have to wait until after semester exams are done (next week is the final week of school before winter break). I will be continuing this fic, I just need a small break. I'm really sorry about this, but I hope you can be patient for a little bit longer. Trust me, I'm more disappointed in myself than you will probably be. Thank you for understanding. Love you all!

(also... 50 hits? I only have 2 chapters why-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a good day/night/life idk


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